


The Early Bird Gets the Worm

by Hansotsi (Karmula)



Series: Hanna Week 2014 [7]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, F/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2020-12-13 23:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21005615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karmula/pseuds/Hansotsi
Summary: All about Prince Hans and his southern isles. Literally.





	The Early Bird Gets the Worm

**Author's Note:**

> For handsomegodofsideburns and thehansmeister. Originally written for Hanna Week Day VII, 2014, inspired by the prompt "The Handsome Prince: All About Prince Hans & His Southern Isles." Edited and reuploaded in 2019.

Hans tossed and turned restlessly, the bed springs creaking beneath him, a dull, throbbing ache in his groin slowly stirring him from unconsciousness. 

“Unnggghh…”

The prince rolled over with a groan, pawing at his eyes and at the crusted sleep that glued his lids together. Face pressed into his pillow, he stifled a jaw-breaking yawn, his fists bumping with a hollow knock against the wooden headboard as he stretched and popped his joints, stiff from hours of disuse. 

Beside him, his wife dozed peacefully on her back, snoring lightly, her soft, glossy strawberry-blonde hair fanned out across the pillow, a trail of glistening saliva connecting the corner of her mouth to her jawline. Outside, birds twittered and chirped, already heralding the dawn of a new day. The sky was scudded with puffs of white cloud and streaked with bright oranges and soft pastels as the sun rose, a bright, glowing orb on the far horizon, casting dim, dappled light upon the young lovers. 

“Only sunrise?” Hans mumbled in a muffled, sleepy voice, his tongue thick and uncooperative. “I don’t have to be up for _hours _yet.” He groaned again, rolling over and burying his face once more in his pillow, eyes screwed shut against the invasive morning light, desperate for a few more hours shut-eye.

But the steadily throbbing sensation – not quite pain, not quite pleasure – in his groin prevented any such shut-eye, and Hans grunted in frustration. He shoved a hand unceremoniously between himself and the mattress in a futile attempt to physically restrain himself, but the movement only served to arouse him more as the cool, silken cloth of his pyjama pants rubbed against his hardened member.

At this point he knew he would have to satisfy himself to get even a single wink more of sleep, but the idea was so blatantly unappealing it was almost enough in and of itself to turn him soft.

Almost.

He looked across at his wife, still sleeping soundly, and thought briefly of waking her, imagining the pair of them making hurried, bumbling love in the new light before falling asleep once more, a tangle of limbs splayed haphazardly across the mattress.

Just the thought made his cock jump appreciatively, and he even went so far as to reach out a hand, planning to shake her gently by the shoulder, before dropping it and returning it to his side. He knew that to wake her this early in the morning would be an act of suicide, no matter what activities he had planned once she awoke. After all, Anna had never believed in the phrase ‘the early bed gets the worm’; she would much prefer to sleep the day away, conserving her energies for their night activities. Hans chuckled.

Oh well, he mused silently. He was the early bird now, and she was the one who would be missing out.

And what a worm she was missing out on.

Hans shifted onto his back, his cock immediately tenting the blue-and-white striped silk of his pyjama bottoms. He slipped one hand underneath his buttocks, grabbing at the waistband of his pants and tugging, scooting himself on the mattress until he was free of the lavish material, and brought one hand to his pelvis.

The morning air fell crisp and cool on his pulsing manhood, and Hans felt a shiver run unbidden down his spine at the sensation. He stood tall, erect and proud, his length a strange combination of alabaster and flushed pink, lightly ribbed and embossed with a complicated array of faintly bluish veins. The trail of light reddish hair that split his toned belly in two grew suddenly thicker and darker, an almost brown auburn colour streaked with hints of lighter gold and strawberry that cropped up around his base. His head was engorged, already slick and shining with pre-come, the thin hood of his foreskin already half pushed back.

He grasped his rock-hard shaft firmly at the base, running a thumb along the underside of it in quick, feathery strokes. His previous air of lethargy in regard to taking care of his manhood immediately vanished once he was actually doing so, and a moan fell unsolicited from his lips.

Conjuring up the most sensual mental images of his wife that he could, he began to pump, slowly at first but with increasing speed, thumbing the head of his cock every so often and cradling his warm, tight-skinned sac with his other hand, applying gentle pressure to the place where sac met skin.

Hans felt his own heat steadily building in the pit of his belly, like a tightly coiled snake. He spread his bent knees apart to accommodate the pressure, digging his feet into the mattress to anchor himself, and began bucking against and into his own calloused hand, biting the inside of his cheek to stifle his groans and drawing blood from the ragged flesh.

He gave his length a squeeze before twisting his grip around himself slightly, clenching and unclenching his palm to simulate the feel of Anna’s inner walls contracting around him. With his eyes closed and the musky scent of Anna’s hair on the pillow beside him, it was almost impossible to distinguish this fantasy from reality, and he found himself lost in the throes of ecstasy much sooner than he had anticipated.

Gasping, Hans gave his own throbbing cock a final squeeze, stroking his long, graceful pianist’s fingers across his swollen tip before flipping onto his stomach and biting hard into his pillow to muffle his screams as he reached his climax, grinding and rolling his hips against the plump mattress even as he soaked it with his own hot, wet release. Goose down flew up around him as he broke through the thin pillow cover with his teeth, its softness tickling his clammy cheeks.

A light film of sweat coating his forehead and beading in his most private crevices and crannies, Hans huffed a relieved sigh, smiling in satisfaction, one hand still grasped around his now-flaccid cock. His sideburns and fringe, mingled with white, feathery down, were glued with sweat to his face, which would have been extraordinarily uncomfortable were it not for the cool, refreshing breeze flowing through the window and caressing his freckled skin with gentle fingers.

Turning a blind eye to the fact that the sun was now high in the cloud-streaked sky, the colour of which was a pretty, cornflower-blue, Hans smiled against the pillow as he fell once more to the familiar and comforting abyss of unconsciousness, still stroking a hand over his soft, limp member. Anna muttered to herself in her sleep, rolling over and slinging a bare leg over her husband’s waist.

His last conscious thought before he fell asleep was:

_ I guess it’s true what they say. The early bird really _ does_ get the worm._


End file.
